


Don't Let Go, You've Got Me Down On My Knees

by Velocity_Owl87



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Difficult Decisions, F/M, Forced Bonding, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Implied Mpreg, Introspection, Love Confessions, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Possibly Unrequited Love, Rescue Missions, Returning Home, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25907998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velocity_Owl87/pseuds/Velocity_Owl87
Summary: Disaster is averted and the men of the HMS Terror and Erebus are rescued by Sir James Clark Ross. On the way home, Alpha Francis finds himself in a delicate dilemma with his subordinate, Omega Commander James Fitzjames. The hardships they faced have made bonds spring up between the Alphas and Omegas. Bonds that need to be finalized and for an Omega like Fitzjames, it is imperative he do so, lest he lose his standing.Ross is aware and urges Francis to take action, yet Francis finds his hand forced and he must make the choice to bond with Fitzjames or leave him to suffer. And after all they had gone through...Francis makes his choice.A choice that will affect their futures in ways he nor James would ever expect.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier & Sir James Clark Ross, Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames, Commander James Fitzjames & Harry D. S. Goodsir, Lady Ann Ross/Sir James Clark Ross, Sophia Cracroft/Captain Francis Crozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34
Collections: The Terror Big Bang 2020





	Don't Let Go, You've Got Me Down On My Knees

**Author's Note:**

> My Terror Big Bang Entry and my first big Fitzier story! A bit nervous, but I hope I did them and the trope and the pairing justice! Art is by the talented [Snagov! ](https://twitter.com/terrorestial1)They have captured the essence of Francis and James and I give them a thousand thanks for it!!

Don’t let go, You’ve got me down on my knees 

It was late in the day and the water was calm as the _HMS Enterprise_ sailed through the inky darkness of the Davis Strait towards Halifax. The sun had only barely skimmed the surface and the faint darkness of the sky would give way to sunlight soon enough. The midnight sun would be arriving and that wasn’t Sir James Clarke Ross' favourite thing ever. 

Ross frowned, rubbing windburned fair skin. He pushed some more of his red hair behind his ear and debated staying on the deck still. He would need to be up soon enough, so what would be the point. 

As he was musing this, a gust of bitterly cold Arctic wind knifed through him. Despite his warm cold weather gear, it was still cold and horribly so. It was that which made the decision for him. With the wind nipping at his reddened face, it was enough to push him towards the deck below and to his own cabin. He would have stayed out longer, but he hadn’t the stomach for standing out in the icy cold deck of a ship. Even if the alternative was going back to sharing a space with another Alpha. 

He nodded to his Ice Master before he went down the stairs, walking quickly towards his cabin. Despite knowing what he’d find, he found himself swearing mentally when he saw Francis Rawdon Moira Crozier curled up in one of the bunks dead to the world. The man was one of his closest friends and one of the few men they had found in what the Navy felt was a token rescue mission. As much as he would have wanted to wake Francis up for a late night chat, Ross didn’t have the heart to do so. 

Instinct too, foiled that plan. His hackles were up, despite knowing the man for years and he didn’t want to cause a fight when there wasn’t a need for one. Besides, as deteriorated as Francis was, Ross had no doubt the other Alpha could put up a fight. He’d already forced Tozier and Little down, so Ross had proof. So he let him rest.

Francis, even in sleep, looked far too drawn out and exhausted. His skin was still peeling in patches, the freckles stark against the whiteness of it. His hair was equally pale and washed out shade of what could have been reddish blonde at some point and his jaw was bristly with a reddish beard. Dark shadows were under his eyes and his face was still drawn tight over his skull. 

He was still in a coat, curled up under thick blankets, as if wanting to preserve the precious warmth he hadn’t gotten much of beforehand. Or at least that was what it looked like until Ross got closer and saw that Francis was curled up around a bundle of dark blue wool that was emanating a fruity, flowery scent almost hidden by the cloying scent of burnt sugar overlaid over it all. 

A scent that seemed very familiar to Ross having caught a hint of it after Francis had come back from the sick tent before they had decided what would be the best time to go back to the ship. Ross wondered why that scent was clinging to Francis so heavily until he had come to greet Commander Fitzjames. It was then that he caught the same scent, but with notes of sea salt and grass. He had barely had time to excuse himself, since it had been both cloying and rank to him the moment he caught a whiff of it. It was a far cry from the sweet scent on the coat that Francis cradled like-

Ross swore quietly as he made his way to the only chair in the cabin and heavily sank down on it. He scrubbed his face roughly with mittened hands as it hit him exactly whose scent that was. And he hated the fact that he knew no good would come out of it.

Commander Fitzjames had smelled neutral while he had been in London. Ross understood that was the suppressants, but years without had brought the exotic scent out. One that he, as a mated Alpha detested. But one that Francis, as a single Alpha in close quarters, found much needed comfort in.

Rosas was fully aware of the Commander’s secondary gender, but hadn’t thought much of it. The man had proven he could handle his urges and serve with distinction in the navy. Fitzjames had done outstanding feats while in the service and he wasn’t a typical Omega. That coupled with the suppressants the Navy provided would have been enough to deter any bondings or matings. 

_Or at least it would have been if their supplies had not failed them_ , Sir James reminded himself, thinking of the poisoned tins Francis and Fitzjames had spoken of. The probability of faulty suppressants for both Alphas and Omegas wasn’t that far of a stretch. And even if they hadn’t spoiled...They only had enough for two years. 

It wouldn’t have been a far fetched conclusion that Francis and Fitzjames had grown close. Just like Bridgens and Peglar. And Jopson and Little. Especially those two, Sir James had only used Beta and Omega men to deal with those two.

Little had grown almost feral in his possessive protectiveness over the steward. He was so possessive that he wouldn’t let Francis or any Alphas near, bonded or not. So they had let them and a few others that he had been appraised to be. They could sort it out between themselves without any interference from him and Francis. 

Sir James couldn’t feign the same indifference to Francis and Fitzjames’ situation. Not with their ranks and their standing in English Society. Sir James sighed as he looked at a peacefully sleeping Francis, shaking his head at the idea of having _that_ conversation. 

Particularly with what he knew was waiting back in England. 

“Oh Francis, you certainly do know how to complicate matters.” Sir James murmured ruefully before stripping his outer layers and lying down in the other less comfortable bunk. Once he was settled in, Sir James mulled over the situation again, until he finally gave up. 

He wasn’t going to come up with a solution at the moment, so he didn’t see the point of losing sleep. Besides, they still had a long way to go. He had plenty of time to approach Francis and figure this tricky situation out once and for all.

~*~*~*~*

“Are you sure, Harry?” James whispered in the silence of the stark white medical berth James now occupied. As the lone unmated Omega, he had been isolated for his own good and it was that, rather than rank that had given him his own space. He was lonely sometimes, Francis and Bridgens not coming as often as he would have liked. He was the weakest out of all of them. 

Even Jopson and Peglar had recovered. But James was still ill. And being alone was taking its toll. He longed to be with Francis again and even though Goodsir tried his best, it didn’t ease the ache of being alone. Yet right now, James was glad he was by himself.

It gave him time to process what he had feared, but not given voice to. And despite being ready for it, it was still a blow. He was still stunned by the news Harry Goodsir had just given him. James had been silent for several minutes as the information sunk in, only now being able to finally voice his concerns. 

Harry Goodsir blinked as he looked over his notes once again, his mouth a straight line as he double-checked his conclusion. As he waited for an answer, James chewed on his bottom lip, his long, thin fingers pleating the rough fabric of his sheets. Finally, after several minutes of silence, Goodsir looked up at James and nodded. 

“I’m sorry James. I wish it wasn’t the case. But it is. You meet all of the criteria of an accidental bonding with the Captain.” He explained in his soft, calm voice. 

It wasn’t what James wanted to hear, but he appreciated the softening of Goodsir’s eyes and his quiet manner. Qualities that were so very welcome to James at this time. Goodsir was honestly the gentlest Beta that James had ever met and he was so grateful that it was Goodsir rather than the _Enterprise_ doctor beside him. Dr. Neil was a good doctor, but like all Navy men, he disdained Omegas and James was too raw to not only deal with him, but also to deal with the upsetting news he had just received. 

He pushed the thought aside and focused on the much more pressing problem at hand. 

“Are there any suppressants on the ship we could try? To stop the bond, I mean. Could it work?” 

James asked, his fingers pleating and unpleating the fabric as his mind reeled with the news that he and Francis had a nascent mating bond. He didn’t dare pluck at the hidden jumper that Francis had given him when they had boarded _Enterprise_. Even though he was sure that Goodsir wouldn’t notice or care, he didn’t dare. He felt that he needed to appear independent, even though that was clearly far from the case.

He was still trying to figure out exactly how that had even happened. It was true that he had run out of suppressants earlier that year. But he was too sick and malnourished for it to have mattered. Then the scurvy had come and he had been so close to dying that he hadn’t even bothered to think about it when Francis had crawled into his sack to keep him warm. 

Looking back, James now realised that he should have made some protest. Maybe pushed Francis away and suffered through the pain and cold alone. But the Omega side of him had shied away from that, craving the warmth and comfort that Francis brought him. He was also ashamed to admit that for once, it was nice to be the one looked after. To not have to worry about pressures or responsibilities at all. 

James could admit now that he was out of death’s grasp that he couldn’t have said no even if he was able to. He had always yearned for an Alpha to take care of him and to protect him and he was basking in Francis’ care. And basking In Francis' scent of sea salt, rain, and grass so far removed from the cold scentlessness of the Arctic. Could anyone blame him for not being a proper Omega and keeping his distance? 

James didn’t think so. Out in the stark frozen tundra, all of the rules they had rigidly followed in England had mattered for naught. 

Survival and their instincts had been what saved them out there. If Francis had listened to that nonsense none of them would be alive. If any of the other Betas and Alphas had gone off or had abused the Omegas in their party, they would have surely died faster without the Tuunbaq’s help to do so. James knows that’s what helped them hang on until they were rescued. Yet he is aware that all of so called civilized society would see it differently. 

They would judge them without knowing. Drag their names through the mire and condemn them. They wouldn’t understand and in this unwillingness to understand, would damn him. The Navy would dismiss him. Francis would…

His hands stilled on the sheets. What would Francis Crozier think?

Would he be horrified at the knowledge? Would he want to be bonded to him? 

It was true things had changed out on the ice. They had shared and faced more than two human beings would in a lifetime. They had faced starvation, illness, and in his case, death. But would the closeness translate to honouring a bond?

Would Francis even consider it? Hell, was Francis even keen on Omegas? After all, the esteemed Miss Cracroft herself was a Beta. A lovely Beta, but a Beta nonetheless and Francis had asked for her hand in marriage twice. And had been refused. 

But that had been before the expedition. And now, even with the failure of it, but with more of the blank spots of the map filled out...James had no doubts that she’d say yes if she was asked. She would turn down Captain Crozier. She wouldn’t turn down Commodore or Rear Admiral or even Sir Francis Crozier. 

Harry Goodsir cleared his throat, wrenching James back to the present and away from his increasingly bleak thoughts. He gave Goodsir a thin smile that the other man returned with a gentle one of his own. 

“No. I’m afraid to say, James. The ship doesn’t have any. And it would be too late to do so otherwise. It wouldn’t make a difference. I’m sorry, James.”

James nodded, rubbing his forehead as he did so. He was in it, now. There was simply no way to stop the inevitable. 

“It was worth a try, Harry. Now that I know, “ he paused and glanced back at Goodsir, “I can at least get ready for what is to come.” 

Goodsir swallowed as he closed his notebook, laying it to rest on the table near James’ bunk. 

“Will you tell him? The Captain?” Goodsir whispered. 

James blew out a breath, nodding as he did so. 

“I haven’t a choice. He’d figure it out before long. I think Sir James already suspects something. I wouldn’t be surprised if he already said something.” James explained, the idea making his frown deepen, causing the lines in his face to deepen. 

He liked Sir James. Who didn’t? But he was painfully aware that he was Francis' closest friend and that he could sway Francis’ opinion in such a situation. 

The idea made James want to whine, but he suppressed the urge as he always had and swallowed hard instead. 

“Then good luck, James. I hope it works out for the best.”

James smiled crookedly at Goodsir. “Me too.”

~*~*~*~*~

Francis had just finished washing up and tying his cravat when James entered the cabin, his usually genial expression replaced with thoughtfulness he had learned from the Antarctic mission to take special note of. He finished and turned to face his oldest and closest friend. Clearly he was there to talk. And Francis was sure that he knew exactly what this James was here to address.

Francis had woken up in the middle of the night and had groaned quietly when he had found his face buried in Fitzjames’ coat and with his friend James asleep in the other bunk. Francis had been good about hiding Fitzjames’ coat. But of course, it was too good to last and he had slipped up. 

And despite knowing the consequences, Francis couldn’t quite bring himself to hide it away or give it back to Fitzjames. It wasn’t quite the same as holding Fitzjames as he had in those months as they crossed King William’s Land, but it was something. And it helped him sleep dreamlessly and get some rest. Something that hadn’t been the case the first night he had crashed without Fitzjames’ beside him. 

Francis had felt like a fool for asking James if he could borrow the coat once it was obvious their sleeping arrangements were no longer possible. Luckily, James had only nodded his agreement and had demanded Francis’ jumper in return. A request that Francis was only too happy to comply with. 

They hadn’t been able to discuss anything else, with Fitzjames being too sick and Francis dutifully standing at Ross's side as he filled in the blanks of their absence and of the expedition. Not all of it, Francis had emphasized when he had been able to briefly visit. Only the plausible bits. 

Now, looking at Ross’ face, Francis regretted not having made any further arrangements with Fitzjames. Not to mention hiding the coat better. But he had been far too exhausted and missing the man that had been his constant companion those years in the Arctic wastelands. So he had slipped up and now Ross was there with his solemn face no doubt to ask him about his intentions regarding Fitzjames.

Intentions that he had no concrete idea of himself. 

He was aware of how his Irish roots and brogue marked him in the eyes of the English Navy. He was also painfully aware he was accorded more freedoms due to his being an Alpha and a captain. And also due to having the steadfast friendship of Ross. He was poor at politics, but even he could see how Ross and his influence afforded him some protection. 

“I take it, I don’t have to tell you why I’m here.” Ross stated as he entered the berth and closed the door to ensure privacy. 

Francis sighed and shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest as if to protect himself from what was coming.

“I suspected it was going to come up the moment I realised you had seen Fitzjames’ coat. So out with it, James. There’s no point in delaying it further.” Francis replied calmly, making Ross frown. 

“What will you do then, Francis? I understand that it is far different out there on the ice than in London. You had to rely on each other. Be closer to each other than in normal circumstances. Everyone on the ship does as well. But at home, it will be different. And you need to make plans. Especially for him. You know how hard it is for Omegas, distinctions or not.”

Ross stated in an urgent, wheedling tone that Francis knew so well from past voyages. One that irritated him since he knew Ross only wanted to do the right thing. Yet despite the tone, he couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed at Ross’ question. Especially since he was right. Francis and Fitzjames had to talk and plan for what was to come in England. 

And if what he was gleaning from Ross was correct, he needed to act and act fast.

And even though they had months to come up with a solution, they had to do it sooner, rather than later to make the transition a smooth one. 

“I am aware, James. I am fully aware how lucky I was to be an Alpha of Irish extraction, rather than a Beta or an Omega in the Navy,” Francis pointed out, exaggerating his brogue and making Ross give a ghost of a grin in return. 

He could somewhat joke about that now, but it was still a deep hurt within him that no matter how much he achieved, he would still sting. He could be a noble, but still would be seen as an _Irish_ noble. The one thing that eased the sting and made it bearable with each passing day had been the Arctic and...his James. Having been out in the Arctic and hearing Fitzjames’ confession made his perspective shift and made him realise he wasn’t the only one on the fringes. He was just less able to hide in plain sight like Fitzjames had done. 

Ross caught the humour and smiled, making the melancholy expression fade somewhat. But his tone remained the same when he continued to voice his concerns.

“I know you do, Francis. Out of all of us, you know exactly how it would be. That’s why I am asking for you two to figure this out when we reach New York. I know Halifax may be pushing it, but better be sooner than later. Especially if he has a heat cycle coming.”

Francis went cold at that, then cursed himself for forgetting such an important detail. Of course Fitzjames would go into heat as soon as he was healthy enough. And with how close they had been those years, there was no way that they could stay apart. No other Alpha of rank could claim him. There weren't any left as well. Other than Francis that was.

And Francis wasn’t going to let James, his James, fall through the cracks and become another doxie on the docks. He would have much rather watched him die than condemn him to that fate. He knew, despite being able to say it, that he loved James Fitzjames. And he would gladly ask James to do him the honour of being his mate. 

“I will, James. I have been remiss in seeing to Fitzjames since you and our salvation arrived. With your leave, I will visit Fitzjames and have this sorted,” Francis said as he turned to look at the coat lying on the bed, “And hopefully to everyone’s satisfaction.”

Ross nodded, moving away from the door. “I think it would be best if you do so now. I mean, it would be better to make a clean break of it if you are still thinking of pressing suit with Miss Cracroft.”

Francis shook his head, laughing quietly and bitterly as he went to fetch Fitzjames’ coat. He picked it up and folded it carefully as he worked on a reply. His hands worked at the rough cloth, the sweet floral scent faintly emanating from it as he worked. He folded it neatly as he thought about her for what felt like the first time in years. 

She was the farthest thing from his mind when he had walked through the cold and the shale and had lain beside a failing Fitzjames. What occupied his thoughts as they kept on walking was simply to keep his men safe and alive. And to find a way to save them from the Tuunbaq. To save Fitzjames, who had started to bleed, his eyes going cloudy with blood and who could barely move.

Those had been his thoughts. Those had been his concerns. Proposing to Sophia Cracroft, having her as his wife was no longer anything to him. Not when he had Fitzjames beside him. Damaged, but alive. 

He finished the task, unable to draw it out longer and turned to Ross, who took one look at his face and nodded in understanding. 

“I suspected as much, with how you were with Fitzjames, when we found you. I wanted the confirmation from your own lips that was the case.”

Francis nodded, his face burning at the observation. “Was it that obvious?”

“Not at first. Other men were acting the same with him. Bridgens. Little. Tozier. Blankly has always been good at misdirection when it came to you. It was scenting and seeing the coat that brought it all together. No Alpha holds onto clothing like that unless it's from their Omega.” 

Francis felt his face go hot at that observation, but Ross only shook his head.

“It is fine, Francis. But you have to talk to him.”

“I will.” Francis was able to rasp out before leaving the berth with Fitzjames’ coat in his arms. 

He didn’t meet anyone on his way to the cabin he all too clearly recalled Ross and Goodsir pointing out as the safest place for James to be in. Although they hadn’t outright forbidden him from visiting, Francis found himself too busy to actually visit more than a few times. Only two of those times had James been lucid. One of those had been when they had exchanged articles of clothing. 

He hadn’t really thought much about what that exchange would mean. He only saw it was a solution to keep both of them from going into shock at being so abruptly separated. He had forgotten what implications that would create. He had been so focused on survival. Then rescue, that he had been blindsided. 

And it had left him one step behind and needing to catch up and catch up quickly. 

He just hoped that James was in agreement. 

Francis felt his palms get sweaty as he knocked on the door, the twinge of anxiety hitting him at the possibility of James rebuffing him. He had no sound basis for that being a possibility. After all, they had shown each other the hidden depths of each other out on the ice. 

James had shared his closest held secret with Francis. A secret that they both knew could destroy James and leave him without any prospects if it ever got out. His station, like Francis’ was even more tenuous. So for him to have trusted Francis that much...Francis had to admit that it was highly unlikely James would turn against him like this. 

“Come in.” James called out, forcing Francis to push all of his anxieties away and deal with the situation now at hand. 

He opened the door, entering the white washed room that for a split second made him pause at the brightness of it before getting his bearings to find James sitting up in his berth. A familiar cream jumper being pleated and folded over and over again by those long, still too thin fingers. Apart from the nervous movements of his hands, James seemed composed enough. But there were creases around his eyes and his mouth was pressed into an almost bloodless line. 

The lines of his face smoothed when Francis came closer and sat down on the berth. James tilted his head to see him with his good eye and smiled a genuine, albeit strained smile. 

“Francis! This is a rare pleasure! I have missed you, my brother.” James added, making Francis wince. 

“As have I, James. My apologies. Despite not being a captain, I have been kept busy. I regret not coming as often as I did when we had been first rescued. You look so much better, James.”

James flushed at that, his lips curling up at the comment, the smile warming Francis up and giving him hope that his question would be positively received.

“Thank you, Francis. I feel better,” He looked down at the jumper, “for the most part, that is.”

Francis frowned, reaching out for James’ hand. “What do you mean? Are you ill again? Is it your eye? Or your wounds? Have they opened up again?”

James covered Francis’ hand with his own, shaking his head slowly, his grip tightening so that Francis would look at him.

“They are fine. Goodsir checked them earlier. What isn’t is that it seems that due to our closeness”-James swallowed hard, looking at Francis before he continued-”we have developed a bond. So now, the question is: What are we to do?”

~*~*~*~*

Francis felt like time had stood still as his mind worked to understand the news James had just shared with him. 

So they were bonded now. Of course they were. Francis felt like kicking himself for not recognising the signs of a nascent bond. The scents, the way that he longed for James and needed his coat to soothe himself, it was all there. 

No wonder why Ross had been insistent on him sorting it out. He had already figured it all out much earlier than Francis and was only passing down advice. Advice that Francis now felt grateful for as he faced James and thought quickly as to what to say. Especially since it would define the trajectory of the relationship between them.

“Francis?” 

James’ soft query brought Francis back to the present time and to the matter at hand. He licked his lips nervously and decided to just take his own advice and go for broke. 

He had asked Sophia Cracroft twice for her hand. Surely he could ask James Fitzjames to be his mate. They had already faced so much together and had bared their souls to each other while they fought for their very survival. Surely he could bring himself to say the words. 

His grip tightened on James’ hand as he gathered his wits and courage about him to finally speak. 

“James...Suppose if I were to make a suit for you as my mate, would it be received favourably?” Francis paused, studying James’ face intently before he continued, “Despite everything, I care about you deeply, James. I would like for us to be together. Even though I may not be able to bring you wealth or status that any other Alpha might, I would like to try.”

James’ face was still, his eyes dark pools that reflected everything and nothing back to Francis. He was silent too long, making Francis wonder if he had made one of the worst moves of his life. A move even worse than proposing to Miss Cracroft twice. Or having signed on under Sir John.

James’ mouth twitched and Francis’ heart started racing, his face went hot as he tried to steel himself for the inevitable rejection. He was about to pull away and beg forgiveness and make his way out of the berth when James, with surprising strength, pulled him closer and kissed him. Kissed him hard. 

It was a kiss like no other Francis had ever been the recipient of. Not that he ever had much practice other than doxies and a stolen kiss here and there from cousins and Miss Cracroft. James was soft and hard at the same time and tasted like strong tea with a hint of caramel sugar. He got a hint of sweet fruit taste as James pressed up against him, making him moan. 

Francis was embarrassed at his reaction, yet he couldn’t for the life of him, push him away. He could feel James’ hardness pressing against his thigh and he was tempted to continue when there was a sharp rap at the door. 

They pulled apart with enough time to get themselves straightened out, exchanging a soft glance with each other before James gave permission for the person to enter. 

When Harry Goodsir came in, a tray in his hands, he found them at a respectable distance, both of them looking as if he had just interrupted a conversation. Yet the sea scent overlaid with a sweet fruit scent told Harry what had happened. 

He smiled briefly as he put the tray on the table nearby. “Are congratulations in order? And should I let you be?”

James blushed, leaving Francis to clear his throat and nod. “They are. Thank you, Harry and no. In fact-” He was about to say more when the bells rang, signalling the shift change “-I do apologise, but I need to talk to Sir Ross. If you will excuse, Harry. James.”

He stood from the chair, nodding to Harry before turning to James and offering him his wrist to scent. 

They both heard Harry give a soft exclamation and turn away from the couple to give them privacy to do so. James didn’t notice as he eagerly took the offered wrist and inhaled deeply, nuzzling the hand as he scented his mate to be. He could feel Francis’s pulse fluttering like a hummingbird under his lips, prompting him to kiss the thin skin before letting him go. 

He looked up and tried to hide the pleasure that Francis’ ragged breathing and flushed face brought him. He hadn’t seen the Alpha so flustered in ages and he found he liked having that much power over him. It was a heady feeling. 

A headiness that was exacerbated when Francis took _his_ wrist and scented it, his eyes sparkling with mischief when he _sucked_ on James’ wrist. James gasped, his eyes widening in surprise at the feel of Francis’ lips on _his_ wrist. His own face burned when Francis pulled away and gave him a wink before nodding to Harry and leaving. 

James was glad that Harry was giving him a moment or two to calm himself. It was unlike anything he had experienced before in his life. Even now, with Francis long gone, he swore that his wrist was on fire. It wasn’t a gentle lingering, but a forceful branding that made his wrist tingle and his flesh cry out for more. 

He held his wrist, rubbing the flesh to ease the longing when Harry cleared his throat and forced him to bring his attention back to the other man in the berth. He smiled at his friend and tried to focus on him, but the growing heat from his wrist was making that difficult. He turned his attention back to his friend with effort, but it was difficult. Particularly with the heat moving from his wrist down to his elbow.

“I do apologise for that, Harry. I haven’t ever had such a reaction from an Alpha before.” James apologised, blushing at his loss of control. Harry nodded, accepting the apology with a wave of his hand as he sat down on the recently vacated chair. 

“I can tell that everything has gone well between you two? When should I expect my invitation?” Harry asked as he went over to the tray to pick up the glass that contained the lime juice needed to keep James’ scurvy at bay. Despite having healed from most of the effects of the disease, Harry didn’t want to take the chance that James would relapse and dosed him regularly. 

He wouldn’t have been so concerned if it hadn’t been for the bond. It had been draining James, Harry had found as he had consulted more of Doctor Neil’s books. He had been hoping he wasn’t too late to stop the deterioration and had been both embarrassed and relieved that hadn’t been the case. He could rest easy now and maybe cut back on the doses. Maybe even start James on more substantial food or-

His thoughts were derailed when the scent of ripe fruits and flowers filled the berth. Harry turned in time to see James lying down, his skin drenched in sweat and his hands clawing at his middle. He was in pain and panting, his eyes screwed shut in an effort to hold himself together. 

No wonder why James had been silent after his question. James looked like he had slipped into a spontaneous heat. Harry blinked as he clumsily put the glass back on the tray and rushed to James’ side. And swore softly when he touched James’ forehead. 

There was nothing else to be done. He needed to get Captain Crozier back and complete the bond or else they would lose James for sure. 

“Wait a bit longer, James. I’ll get him back. Just wait.” Harry assured his friend, who only moaned in response. 

Harry didn’t check to see if James had understood. He simply grabbed a cabin boy and asked him to fetch Captain Crozier and quickly. The boy took off, leaving Harry to stand and watch helplessly over his friend. 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait for long. It felt like mere moments had passed between him sending the cabin boy and Captain Crozier arriving. 

“Harry? What’s going on?” Captain Crozier’s voice came through the door. “Harry-” whatever it was that he was going to ask was swallowed up in a low growl. Harry only barely held himself together as he swiftly opened the door, grabbed the captain, switched places with him and closed the door behind him. 

“Good luck, Captain Crozier. I’ll make sure food and water are brought to you,” he called out, making a hasty exit from the area, not at all caring that he appeared to be fleeing. 

He may have been a Beta, but he wasn’t stupid or foolish enough to be anywhere near an Omega in heat and their Alpha. 

~*~*~*~*~

Francis had been utterly confused as to why he had been summoned to James’ berth. Surely James could stand to be with Harry for a bit? After all, he _did_ need to keep Ross updated on the changing events. He had only gotten as far as hailing his friend when the cabin boy came to fetch him. 

A lad that wouldn’t take no from an answer and insisted that he hurry back to James. Which he did, still puzzled as to why he was needed until the scent hit him. He had been prevented from any displays other than a growl by Harry Goodsir’s quick acting, shoving him inside the berth and locking it from the outside. He said other things, but Francis barely heard them.

His Alpha instincts had slammed to the forefront as the sweet fruit scent enveloped him and the sound of James’ whines registered. 

His omega was in heat. His omega was in pain. His omega needed him.

He moved to the bed, shedding his boots and clothes quickly so by the time he was crawling into the small berth he was naked. In a few moments, James was too. The omega didn’t resist as Francis divested him of his nightshirt and soaked underclothes, shoving them away from the bed. He pulled James closer, making the Omega whine and throw his head back, exposing his neck. 

It was as clear as invitation as Francis was going to get, with James only able to whine and moan. He was too far gone and Francis knew it was too late to wait. He had to take action and hope that James would forgive him for it later. 

He nosed at the gland, making James croon. Francis murmured softly as he nosed the skin, licking and sucking on the red and swollen gland. Each time he did that, James crooned louder and his body pressed up against Francis’s own. The sweet scent got stronger, sharper, making Francis think of Burma, Rio de Janeiro, and Hobart. Hot, sultry places that were a far cry from the desert wasteland they had spent years on. 

The scent was alluring, making Francis lose himself more and more as he licked and sucked the gland. His canines lengthened as the memory of the tropics overwhelmed him. A fleeting memory of the sweet richness of mango came to him. He had to taste that again. He had to have it and he knew once he bit through the gland, he would. 

The idea was so overwhelming that he didn’t even hesitate to question it. One moment he had been thinking of the tropics, sucking on James’ neck, the next, his teeth had pierced the gland and the rich sweetness of mango filled his mouth. James’ cry had been secondary as Francis swallowed, then licked the wound clean. 

His saliva would encourage it to heal and once their mating was done, it would leave a scar showing everyone who James belonged to. He growled in pleasure at the thought of James finally belonging to him. After so long, the lithe Omega was his. And Francis wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Francis licked until he heard James begin to quietly mewl again. Right. The mating. They had only completed the first part. 

He moved them so that he was above James, who lay sprawled out, his legs spread so that Francis was able to see all of James. 

He ran his hand down a scarred thigh, making James moan and keen and part his legs even more so that Francis could fully see his hidden entrance. It was glistening with pinkened slick from when it had opened, responding to James’ heat and bonding. His hand got closer, making James’ cries get louder and much more insistent. Sounds that Francis had never thought to hear from his second, now his mate. 

He growled in reply, his fingers stroking the entrance, slipping in easily with the slick easing the way. He was gentle, but still James yowled. 

Francis kissed his thigh in an effort to comfort and soothe him, murmuring nonsense as he tried again, stroking James enough so that rather than yowling, he was moaning with pleasure. His hands fisted the sheets as Francis stroked, finally slipping his fingers inside. 

It was so soft and velvety, wet and hot and it was all he could do to not launch himself upon James as if he was a raving animal, insensate of anything but the primal desire to mate. He wanted James to have as much pleasure as possible before the mating was done. And by the sounds and writhing that James was doing, Francis thought he was doing just that. 

He hadn’t bedded Omegas in heat before. Only beta women and they hadn’t reacted like this. He found it a heady thing, to have someone come apart in his hands. He ignored his own desire as he finger fucked James, getting him blushing and babbling as they continued. James was too pretty to not watch fall apart and if he took James, he would miss it. 

James was lying there, white skin stained with a blush that started at his face and moved down to stain the delicate skin a delicate pink. His eyes were closed and his lips were red and swollen from the kiss and from James having bitten them. His eyes were clear and shining, closing when he got closer to his release. 

He lasted a bit longer, and Francis swore that he could feel the heat of it going through the core of James’ body, his skin getting hotter and hotter as it rolled through. It turned James’ normally pale skin a dark pink as it went. It made James stiffen up, then arch his back before he spent himself all over his own chest and belly.

Where they were joined, Francis felt a gush of slick wet his entire hand and soak through the bed linens and above all it was James crying out. His deep, resonant voice yelling out Francis’ name as he reached his completion.

“Francis! Francis! Oh, oh, _oh!”_

James’ cries rang in Francis’ ears and he was gone. 

All of his thoughts were subsumed with the need to take his mate and take him _now_. With a low growl, he moved over James. Once he was covering his body with his own, Francis slipped inside of James. He only paused to give him a sloppy kiss right before he started thrusting. 

James moaned in pain, grabbing onto Francis and matching his rhythm in an effort to ease the discomfort. It took a few tries before it worked, James’ moans soon turning into sighs of pleasure yet again. The soft noises and the way that James’ canted his hips to meet Francis’ movements made him realise that he was far closer to finishing than he had thought. 

He paused for a bit in an effort to delay his orgasm, thinking of the most boring things imaginable before he continued. James whined at the delay and Francis turned to lick at the claiming bite in apology. He hadn’t meant to delay, but he wanted this to last far longer than “a few pumps and a spill” as some of the older sailors had called it when he had been a midshipman himself. 

He kept on moving, his hips snapping into that wetness as James lay there, bracing himself as Francis neared completion. This time, he wasn’t holding himself back. He wasn’t completely up to his full strength and with the way that James was panting, it wouldn’t do to delay it, no matter how much pleasure both were getting. Francis grit his teeth as he got closer. He was nearly there. Just a few more times and-

He too, let out a howl as he spent himself into James’ body, his body collapsing the moment he was done. He fell on top of James, who grunted at the extra weight landing on him suddenly. Francis murmured an apology and shifted them both so that they were lying on their sides and facing each other. 

He lazily pulled James closer, kissing him gently and slowly. James got closer until they were their chests and stomachs were flush with each other. He returned the kisses, purring quietly as they lay there, their eyes falling shut as exhaustion finally overcame them. 

~*~*~*~*

Francis woke first, slightly disoriented by the whitewash and the slender body he was curled up around protectively. James’ scent registered in those moments between sleep and waking and it all came back to him. _Of course._

Despite having woken up confused by his surroundings again, it all came back to him quite quickly. Their talk, the heat, and lastly, their mating. The only difference this time was that James wasn’t frantically rutting against his thigh, the heat haze dictating all of his actions. 

He blearily opened an eye and smiled when he saw James’ head resting on his chest.He was asleep and happily settled against Francis, his body at a normal temperature. He heard a low purring and he felt as if his heart would burst with contentment. He hadn’t ever heard James purr. Nor did he ever dream that he would be the cause of the purring either. 

Never, in all those years on the ice, did he ever entertain the idea that it could be possible and here they were, snug in a berth, mated and belonging to each other. He sighed and pressed his nose into James’ hair. Inhaling the sweet tropical scent, he felt calm wash over him again. Calm and happiness that he almost didn’t know what to do with. 

As he contemplated the intensity of feelings that their mating had brought him, James made some sleepy noises and moved so that he was splayed all over Francis. He rested his head on Francis’ chest, then wrapped his arm around him, snuggling into him. Once he was comfortable, he fell asleep again, murmuring and purring, both sounds lulling Francis back into a comfortable doze. 

He wasn’t sure what he was dreaming of, but all he knew was that it was green and lush and hot. Nothing like the Arctic hell he had been mired in. He could see James, burnished and golden, smiling with his hair long and reddish glints in it. He could hear his laughter and the laughter of a child and-

The bells sounded out, shaking Francis from his dream and pulling him back to reality. He lay there, wanting to chase the dream, but the voices of the sailors reminded him that he needed to speak with Ross and quickly. He was all too aware of how fast rumours and discontent spread on a ship. 

The memory of Hickey flashed through his mind and he fought to suppress it. He knew he had made his mistakes. Had enough time to ruminate on them as he waited for James to get better. He didn’t need to bring that stained piece of his past into his much brighter present. 

He wasn’t going to do the same here and certainly not with his best friend. He had to tell Ross and figure something out. As much as he wasn’t a political animal, he had to make the effort for James. Any fall out, he would be able to weather. He knew with certainty it wouldn’t be the same with James.

So as much as he didn’t want to leave his mate, he had to. Moving carefully, he slid out from James’ embrace and quietly washed up before getting dressed. He breathed a sigh of relief when James lay fast asleep. He didn’t think that he would be able to leave otherwise.

Squaring his shoulders, he left the cabin and went to his own, all the while hoping that things would be able to be fixed to everyone’s satisfaction.

~*~*~*~*~

Francis would have much rather been somewhere else than here, being given a dressing down by Ross. He had already gotten a much more matter of fact one from Blanky once he had been able to see his other friend. He had found Ross occupied with his own crew, leaving Francis to search out Blanky, who he hadn’t been able to see for far too long of a time. And had gotten a lecture in Blanky’s own inimitable style. 

And now here he was, getting another lecture from Ross. Even though he was aware that both Alphas were commenting out of concern for him. And for his mate. He knew that they had flaunted convention and protocols. Blanky, as much as he didn’t give a damn, had said as much. 

And protocols had to be sorted out and fixed before any negative fall out could occur. 

Francis looked away from Ross as he recalled that conversation once he had finally visited his former Ice Master. Blanky had been in the grip of illness and laudanum ever since he had to have more of his leg amputated and with Francis’ being busy with other duties and James, he had only just been able to visit. 

And try to tell Blanky about the mating. Which it turned out he didn’t have to, since Blanky sniffed the air a couple of times and cackled once he registered the scent clinging to Francis. 

“Finally bedded the little fop, did you?” He managed to get out between his own snickers and Francis spluttering exclamations. 

“I’d say it’s about nigh on bloody time that you did. I was starting to think that you’d never get the chance to, after how sick he was out there.” Blanky added, making Francis grow quiet and finally heave a sigh as he grabbed a stool and sat down beside his friend’s sickbed. 

He was quiet and pale and Blanky shifted in the bed, waiting for Francis to compose himself. Despite as much as he wanted to protest the irregular mating, being reminded of how close he had been to not having James as a mate was enough to dry it up. James had survived. It had been too damned close, but he had survived and he was Francis’ mate. 

Blanky pointing it all out brought the importance home to him and he wouldn’t belittle it. Even if it would cause them some headaches when they got back. But that would come later. And he doubted that it would overshadow what they had achieved.

“You’re right in that, Thomas. I was ready to make excuses, but you have reminded me that it doesn’t matter. I would have lost him out there. And I wouldn’t have been able to ever be with him again. And the thought made me realise that I couldn’t ever bear it.”

Blanky’s face softened at that softly spoken admission. He reached out and clumsily patted Francis’ shoulder in an effort to comfort him as much as he was able. Neither he or Francis were the most effusive of men. That was as much of an unrestrained embrace as either of them was going to give.

“He’s alive. That’s all that matters now. Even if you did it without permission from the Admiralty. Or from Sir James there. Have you told him yet?”

One look at Francis’ flushed face told him all he needed to know and Blanky shook his head at that. He withdrew his hand and ran it through his hair as he looked for the words he wanted and needed to say. 

“You need to tell him and tell him fast. Before anything gets to the rest of the crew. He’s going to give you a tongue lashing about it, but he will have your back. The last thing either of you needs is for the rumours to start. We may be lauded as heroes, but there’s a court martial for you both to face yet. And James being an Omega mated to you, I don’t have to tell you how that’s going to look. No offence, Francis.”

Francis winced at the last comment, but he waved it away. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t said the same thing before. He was Irish and middle born. A natural outsider that would always have suspicion cast upon him mating the supposed specimen of the English Navy...He understood all too well what Blanky meant. 

Questions would be asked. Ugly ones too. Ones that James would have to pay the price for, being an Omega in the Navy. No. Blanky was right. He would have to address the situation with Ross and quickly. 

“You’re right. As always when I stop to listen to you.” Francis noted wryly, making Blanky laugh. “I have to tell Ross. And that isn’t something I’m looking forward to. At all.”

Blanky laughed. “I doubt he is either. So what have I missed other than your surprise mating. Congratulations, by the way. Who’d have thought you’d have mated the fop in the end?”

Francis groaned. “Must you remind me?”

Blanky grinned at him. “Someone has to.”

Francis hadn’t replied to that. He knew that Blanky always would do just as he said. So he had instead focused on filling him in what he had missed until the bells had rung. He had made his exit then, his palms sweating as he returned to the shared cabin and found Ross had returned before him. 

And was far more silent and broody than usual. His nose was scrunched up and Francis knew then that Ross had picked up on the sweet scent on Francis’ clothes. No matter how much he had tried to pack them away and stifle it, the scent remained. 

“Do you have a moment, James?” Francis queried quietly, making Ross look at him sharply. 

“I do. Even though I am sure I know what you will want to speak to me about,” he replied icily, making Francis wince, “I know I told you to talk to him about pursuing a suit. But not to _actually_ mate Fitzjames! So please, enlighten me as to why you would mate your Omega second without dispensation?”

Ross was furious. Nay, _livid_ was a better description for his best friend’s description as they stood in their cabin, two days after James’ sudden heat. Ross had followed protocol in regards to matings and had given orders to let them be. 

“You know how precarious both of your positions are and yet you still went ahead and mated him! Did you at least claim him?” 

Francis growled at that, making Ross give a low bitter laugh and raised his hands in surrender. 

“Forgive me, Francis. I had to ask. The mating happened on my watch. You would have done the same.” Ross apologised, making Francis sigh and rub his forehead. 

“I understand, James. It doesn’t mean I have to like the question. Besides, as weak of an excuse as it is, I had to mate him. He had developed a mating bond unbeknownst to me. And I inadvertently triggered his heat. There was no way I would have left him to suffer through it alone.”

Francis made a low noise and looked up at his friend pleadingly. 

Ross made a sympathetic noise. He wouldn’t ever dream of leaving his Ann during her heats. No Alpha worth his salt would leave his Omega mate during a heat. Especially not one that they had triggered due an unresolved bond. 

Although he was sympathetic, he couldn’t deny that their mating had become a delicate problem needing a quick solution. They only had so much time before they were in London again. Maybe even less with the stop in New York…

At the thought of New York, Ross’ mind clicked with a solution for their problems. Of course! Why hadn’t it occurred to him earlier? They could definitely find a justice of the peace and make it all legal and above board before heading out to England. None would be the wiser and the Navy wouldn’t be able to make any remarks against the two. And if the others wanted...Well, they could also do the same. 

He turned to face Francis, who was watching him with the same quietly pleading expression. 

“Stop looking like that, Francis. I think I have the solution to our worries. Once we get to New York, we can register your mating. And anyone else that may need to do so. Once we are in England, no one will dispute the validity of the mating.”

Francis took a moment or two to let the idea sink in. It was a good one, all things considered. With a license, they could just play it off as the end result of a courtship started on the trip back. Or one that was forged on the ice. Not quite the usual courting or mating path, but one that was respectable enough to not raise any eyebrows. 

Seeing his friend’s hesitation, Ross groaned. 

“Francis, trust me. James will fall in line. He knows, probably more than you, how these things go. The man saved Edward Barrow’s reputation in Singapore and got assigned as Franklin’s second. Actually, come to think of it, _you_ would be better off to follow his lead.”

Francis puffed up, preparing to be offended, but Ross raised a hand to forestall any of his complaints. 

“Peace, Francis. I’m not saying anything that isn’t true. He’s the consummate politician out of the both of you. He’ll figure this out.”

Francis deflated, nodding at Ross’ words. He couldn’t argue with a blatant truth. He had seen James move through the ranks and ballrooms. As much as he hated to admit it then, James knew what he was about. And it was this cunning social intelligence that they needed in order to survive what was going to come next. 

“All right. You have made your point. I’ll tell James and we can go from there.” Francis conceded as gracefully as he could. 

“Good. We’re not too far. You’ll have about three weeks or so to plan.”

Francis nodded. It would be enough. 

Ross smiled at him then. “Now come. Let us dine and talk. It has been awhile since we did both. I have missed you, Frank.”

Francis grinned. “Of course.”

~*~*~*~*~

Sophia Cracroft was bent over a copy of "Persuasion" in the sitting room, while her formidable aunt sat at her writing desk. The scratching of her pen provided background noise for Sophia as she read. She had gotten so used to it that it barely bothered her any longer. 

Yet today, it pulled her away from the novel she was reading and set her thoughts in turmoil. As much as she wanted to focus on the book, she found herself thinking about Francis. What was he doing now? Was he with Sir James Ross? Or was he still at Greenwich? 

The _Endeavour_ had arrived two weeks prior, to much fanfare and celebration. So much so that the failure was all but swept away. The survivors were lauded as was Sir James. Their findings, as meager as they were, had been quite welcome. But where had Francis gone? 

She knew that it wasn’t the court martial, which as Lady Ann and her aunt had assured her was nothing but a mere formality. Yet she still worried until the ruling came out. Francis and Commander Fitzjames had been acquitted. Knighthoods had appeared, as well as promotions.

No other news had appeared about the Franklin Expedition Survivors. Well, none other than the announcement of a ball, date to be announced. A ball she had no idea if Francis would attend. He hadn’t reached out to her at all, a situation that had stung her, as much as she hated to admit it. He had _always_ written her notes. Or visited. 

Yet now, there was nothing but silence. And she had no real idea as to why that was the case. Was he still recovering? Or was his work taking up so much of his time that socialising was the least of his worries?

Speculation again was all left to her and as much as she wanted to reach out to Francis, her aunt had stated in no uncertain terms it wasn’t to happen. She hadn’t been able to ask Lady Ann anything due to her aunt being right there, not leaving them alone for one moment. So she had remained in a perpetual state of anticipation. 

The stalemate was broken when the maid came with several envelopes and cards, leaving them on her aunt’s desk, stopping the scratching of the pen. Sophia finally put her book down and watched as her aunt thanked the maid and started to open the correspondence. She watched as her aunt opened an envelope and made a satisfied noise. 

“Admiralty Ball to honour the Expedition survivors in two days.. Thank goodness they finally settled on a date, I was starting to wonder. And of course, we are invited, Sophy.” Her aunt added smugly as she folded the invitation away and kept looking through her mail. Sophia rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything to that. 

“Oh! Lady Ann has invited us for a luncheon tomorrow. Maybe Sir James will be there as well. Maybe Sir Francis and Sir Fitzjames as well. I would like to speak with them about dear John’s passing.” Lady Jane added the last in the same low tone she used when she referred to her late husband. A tone that Sophia wondered was real or put upon as a show so that no one would question her devotion after all these years. 

She quashed that uncharitable thought down and instead made the appropriate noises that her aunt was expecting. 

“Although I do wonder if it would be a good idea for Sir Francis and you to be there. After all, he might try and press his suit again. Yet circumstances have changed and it wouldn’t be such a dire situation as before,” she paused and looked over the sheet of fine cream stationary she was holding, “that is if you were willing to accept it?”

Sophia felt her mouth go dry at the question. Would she consider a suit if it was presented? Circumstances had changed, as her aunt pointed out. A knighthood and a promotion certainly sweetened the deal. She wasn’t in love with Francis. She was fond of him and he was in love with her. Good marriages had been made with less.

Yet the silence from Francis gave her enough pause to not answer her aunt right away. If Francis had felt the same, he would have at least sent a note. Visited perhaps. But nothing had arrived from him. And that was enough for a small tendril of doubt to creep in. Enough so that she had to wonder if the Arctic had affected him that much. 

Had he gone feral? Some Alphas did that after being out in the wilderness for too long. Some stayed out there for that exact reason. Yet Francis and his remaining crew had come back. So that couldn’t be it. Or was it?

Sophia cleared her throat and clasped the book a bit tighter as she turned to answer her aunt. 

“I do not know, Aunt. I wouldn’t dare presume to know what is in Sir Francis’ heart.”

Her aunt nodded. “Well, we might get a chance to find out tomorrow. In the meantime, would you be up for a short errand?”

Sophia nodded, putting her book to the side. Anything was better than sitting there with her thoughts. 

~*~*~*~*~

Sophia found herself filled with nervous anticipation as she and her aunt entered the ballroom. She had on her best pale lavender frock and had her hair dressed with fresh flowers. Beside her, her aunt was in black, providing a contrast for her to shine even brighter. She tried to not be too obvious as she looked around, smiling her greetings to other guests and admiring the dresses and uniforms of others. This was her chance to find Francis and find out once and for all what he felt. 

The luncheon had been useless, due to Lady Ann being the only one to receive them. She had apologised at the lack of her husband and her other houseguests and had smoothly segued into talk of the ball. She had done it so well that her aunt hadn’t been able to ask any pointed questions and Sophia wasn’t about to ask either. The only thing that they had learned was that Francis and Fitzjames were guests. Nothing more. 

She had been bitterly disappointed and she hoped that tonight would be much more fruitful in terms of information and possibly her status. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, but she also wasn’t ready to give up just yet. 

So she forced herself to smile graciously as she moved further into the ballroom, her eyes scanning the place in search of the dark blue uniform and reddish hair. She was halfway through the large room when she finally caught sight of him. 

Her heartbeat sped up and she could feel her pulse flutter like a bird in her throat as she moved towards him. He was standing in a cluster, with Sir James Ross beside him, smiling as he always did. Lady Ann was near as was Sir James Fitzjames. All of them were talking and Lady Ann was laughing at something that Sir Fitzjames had said. 

Sir James Fitzjames, who despite his trials, was still handsome enough. His face was filled out and had more colour than before. The lines in his face weren’t as prominent as they had been. He looked better, but despite his smile, there was a gravity there that hinted at the trials he had undergone. He wasn’t the carefree and lighthearted man he had been years ago, that was obvious by the gravity in his smile and eyes. 

His hair still perfectly waved and down to brush the shoulders of his civilian coat, rather than a uniform one. Sophia frowned at that. Why would he not be dressed in his uniform? Surely he wouldn’t pass the chance to show off his rank and achievements! Especially at a ball held in the honour of the expedition he had been a part of!

Her answer came when Sir James Ross caught Francis’ attention, forcing him to move closer to him, leaving Sir James Fitzjames. Who turned to face Lady Ann, showing why he was wearing a civilian coat. 

Sophia felt her jaw dropping at the sight of Sir Fitzjames and his state. No wonder why he wasn’t wearing his uniform. Not only did he not fit in it, he probably had already retired. She had been around Navy men to know that as soon as an Omega got pregnant, they were retired. But who was his Alpha? 

As she was struggling to get her expression back under control, Francis returned to Sir Fitzjames side like an iron to magnet. He put his arm around Sir Fitzjames and pulled him close, murmuring into his ear. Sir Fitzjames laughed and looked at Francis as if he had hung the moon and the stars. Francis smiled at him and that was all Sophia saw before she abruptly turned and went to the garden. 

Well, she mused as she collapsed onto the nearest bench, at least the silence from Francis finally had an explanation. 

~*~*~*~*

Lady Ann had noticed Sophia Cracroft hovering and had been on her way to greet her when the younger woman’s eyes had widened and she quickly turned away and exited towards the garden. Lady Ann winced at the sight, knowing full well that Miss Cracroft had no doubt seen Francis and Fitzjames and put the pieces together. She might have expected Francis to come to her, Ann mused as she smiled at her husband and moved towards Francis. Well, Francis would have. Years ago. But the time had passed and her expectations would need to be addressed. 

Francis, or rather _Sir_ Francis was doting on his mate, his eyes upon Fitzjames and ignoring everyone else in the room that wasn’t him. Lady Ann understood. Her James had been the same with her and she was loath to break them up, but Francis had to speak to Miss Cracroft. The time for silence was long past. 

“James dear, I need to borrow Francis for a moment. I promise to bring him right back.” Lady Anne addressed Fitzjames (She sincerely hoped that they would use another name other than _James_. There were far too many around in her opinion) who only blinked before stepping back. 

“I will hold you to that, Lady Ann. I can’t afford to be chasing down my Alpha. Not anymore at least.” Fitzjames replied, patting his barely there bump gently, making Francis give a low growl at the sight. 

“I promise. Just a quick jaunt to the garden. James, keep your namesake company.”

She grinned at the indignant squawks that followed as she led a confused and sputtering Francis away to the garden. 

“Ann! What in the devil do you mean dragging me out here?” He sputtered, falling silent when she stopped right before the exit and looked at him sharply. 

“Miss Cracroft saw you and Fitzjames together and ran out to the garden.” Lady Ann explained, making Francis’ face go sheet white at that. 

“She saw us, then?” he asked, his voice soft as the implications hit him. 

Lady Ann nodded. “And even though I know she turned down your last proposal...She might have harboured hopes of something different. I know you don’t owe her anything, but her finding out like this would be a hard blow to cope with.” 

Francis exhaled, nodding in agreement at the unspoken suggestion. It was true he didn’t owe her anything, but he understood rejection and the need for an explanation. And the last thing he wanted to do was to inflict that on someone he had cared for. Even if it was never to be. 

“I’ll talk to her. She deserves that much at least.” Lady Ann nodded, patting his shoulder in encouragement. 

“Good luck, Francis. I hope it goes well.”

Francis smiled a faint smile and nodded. “Me too.”

~*~*~*~

Sophia was still sitting on the bench when she felt, rather than heard Francis come into the garden. She didn’t look up until his boots were right in front of her and when she did, she wished that he hadn’t been as much of an Alpha as he was at that moment. 

She wanted to wallow in her misery for a little while longer before she would have to bury it down and act her part at the ball. She had many years of practice, dealing with crushed hopes and disappointments. She just needed time to gather herself together and go out again. She would be fine. 

But right now, the last thing she needed was the same man who had ended her hopes as a witness to that process. 

No matter what they had been to each other years past. She looked up and sighed when she saw his apologetic face above his fancy uniform. She sighed and shifted over on the bench in wordless invitation. When he still hadn’t moved, she patted the bench in a clear invitation. It was only then that he sat down, keeping a respectable distance between them.

Sophia noticed and huffed at that. 

“You never used to worry about propriety before, Francis.” She murmured, making Francis shrug and smooth his trousers down nervously. 

“I wasn’t mated before, Sophia. Nor did I hold rank. Things are different now. Very different.” Francis whispered the last and Sophia got the distinct impression that he wasn’t there in that garden with her any longer. His mind had gone far away and she was willing to bet that it was back in the Arctic with Sir Fitzjames and the rest of his men. 

He cleared his throat, shaking his head to clear it to focus on the matter at hand. He turned to look at her, his eyes focused and clear in a way she hadn’t seen before. Dimly, she realised that she could only smell the sea and grass and the tropical flower sweetness she recalled from Hobart. No whiskey. 

She felt the anger rise up in her chest once she realised that. After all those years, he hadn’t ever tried to get sober. Yet for Fitzjames he had done it? What did he have that _she_ didn’t? Why had he managed to get Francis to change? Why? 

“How did it happen? I mean, it wasn’t as if you were fond of each other before. So what changed?” She didn’t mean to sound so harsh or so bitter, but she couldn’t help herself. She had to know. Especially since she was sure after that night, she’d never get another chance to. 

“The Arctic. After Sir John died and we had to abandon the ships, James became more than my second. We bonded through all of the hardships we faced out there.” Francis explained in a soft voice that told Sophia more than anything else he could have said did. 

“Is that when you fell in love?” She asked, making Francis nod.

“I was close to losing him out there, Sophia. I couldn’t bear that happening again. So I asked him to be mine.” Francis explained. 

“And he said yes when I didn’t.” Sophia added, turning to Francis, “and you took him and mated him without a second thought.” Francis looked at her, his eyes turning sharp as he did. 

“Did you expect me to pine for you, Sophia? Never bond with anyone in the slight hope that I would get a knighthood and be worthy of you?” His voice was calm and deadly quiet in a way she hadn’t heard from him before. She was so shocked she couldn’t answer. Her face burned and Francis barked out a laugh. Her silence was all he needed. He shook his head and stood up. 

“I’m sorry if you had any expectations leading in that direction, Sophia. I really am. But that time has passed. That Francis is gone. James is my mate and my love. And I am his,” he turned to leave, then paused, “good night Sophia. I wish you well.”

He gave her a stiff nod and went inside, leaving her with her broken dreams and fresh regrets. 

~*~*~*~*~

He found his James anxiously looking for him, his face clearing up the moment that Francis entered the ballroom. Despite the extra weight of the pup, James moved quickly and gracefully through the crowds to get to his side. 

“How did it go with Miss Cracroft?” James murmured the moment that they were standing next to each other again. 

Francis opened his mouth to ask how he knew, but kept quiet once he realised that Lady Anne or Ross would have filled James in on his disappearance.

“As well as it could have. She had expectations of me when she hadn’t before. Expectations I couldn’t fulfill. Even if I did want to, which I don’t.”

James breathed a quiet sigh of relief and sagged against Francis, prompting him to look over at his mate. He noted James’ expression and reached over to clasp his hand. 

“You shouldn’t have worried.” Francis murmured, wishing he could do more to comfort his mate, “You are my mate, James. My love. And no one will change that. Least of all her.”

James squeezed his hand in return, conveying all he couldn’t say or do right then and there. 

“I love you, Francis Rawdon Moira Crozier. I hope you know that.”

“I do, James Fitzjames. I do.”

END


End file.
